UC-NRLF 


t 


JUN8     1, 


THE  HIDDEN  CABIN 


THE 

HIDDEN  CABIN 

A  PATHETIC  STORY 


IN  CONDENSED 
FORM 


BY 

DAVID  W.  EDWARDS 

AUTHOR  OP  "BILLY  BIRDSALL," 
"UP  THE  GRADE,"  ETC. 


COVER  DESIGN,   ZOLA  AND  ZIMBO 
BY  DRURY  VICTOR  HAIGHT 


LOS   ANGELES 

COMMERCIAL  PRINTING  HOUSE 
PUBLISHERS 

1909 


COPYRIGHT,  1909 

BY 
DAVID  W.  EDWARDS 

ALL    RIGHTS 
RESERVED 


THE  STORY. 

The  Legend  of  Palomar. 

The  Hidden  Cabin. 

Cedric  Vaughn. 

Homer  Lee. 

Lola  Vail 

The  Voyage. 

The  Mines. 

Ben  Rubideaux. 

The  Wedding. 

The  Mystic  Token. 

The  Stolen  Child. 

The  Wanderers. 

In  the  Mountains. 

"Peg  Leg,"  the  Miner. 

Gilbert. 

Zola  and  Zimbo. 

Gilbert' s  Journey. 

Conclusion. 


197651 


AUTHOR'S  NOTE 
Palomar  Mountain  is  one  of  the 
grandest  natural  attractions  of  Southern 
California.  It  is  more  than  a  mile  in 
height.  From  its  lofty  "look-outs" 
the  beautiful  bay  of  San  Diego  may 
be  descried,  and  also  the  distant 
islands  of  Santa  Catalina  and  San 
Clemente.  It  abounds  with  gushing 
springs,  richly  timbered  table-lands, 
deep,  rocky  canyons,  and  rugged  peaks. 
It  is  one  of  the  favorite  resorts  of  the 
writer,  who  has  spent  many  pleasant 
hours  in  camp  near  the  mysterious 
hidden  cabin  above  the  "snow  white 
clouds,"  in  company  with  his  friend, 
the  Rev.  John  L.  Pitner,  D.  D.,  to 
whom  these  lines  are  inscribed. 

BIMINI  SPRINGS  D.    W.    E. 

LOS  ANGELES,    CAL. 


aV 

of  THE        A 
UNIVERSITY  J 


PALOMAR. 

MILE  above  the  ocean's  level  brim 
Tow'rs  Palomar,  the  monarch  of  the  range. 
Along  its  western  base  are  frostless  hills 
With  verdure  crowned,  and  valleys  green,  where  bloom 
And  fruitage  fill  the  air  with  sweet  perfume. 
Green  pastures,  rich  with  herbage  and  bright  flowers, 
Bedeck  the  eastern  slopes  which  fall  away 
A  lone  and  weary  desert  land  to  meet; 
To  meet  a  lone  and  weary  desert  land — 
A  rich  and  rocky  land  where  mines  of  wealth 
Have  slumbered  long  beneath  its  arid  wastes. 
So  stands  in  majesty  this  mountain  grand 
Between  the  desert  and  the  western  sea. 
From  ocean's  heaving  breast,  she  upward  sent 
A  humid  vapor,  in  the  skies  to  meet 
And  woo  the  softer  breezes  that  ascend 
From  off  the  heated  earth  at  eventide. 
A  gentle  zephyr  was  at  play  among 
The  cacti  beds  and  yuccas  tall,  that  lift 
Their  spiny  leaves  and  tufted  fronds  above 
The  burning  sands ;  she  softly  breathed  a  sigh, 

11 


And  floating  upward  in  the  milky  way 
She  met  and  wed  the  vapor  from  the  sea ; 
For  each  had  found  a  true  affinity. 
The  moon  withdrew  and  hid  her  face  behind 
The  distant  isles ;  and  from  the  blushing  east 
A  ray  of  sunlight  came  and  kissed  the  bride. 

Together  in  the  skies,  these  twain  have  wrought 
A  mantle,  soft  as  down,  of  spotless  white ; 
And  often  as  the  evening  twilight  falls, 
Or  dewy  morning  sheds  her  purple  tints, 
They  come  and  spread  it  over  Palomar. 
Thus  runs  the  legend  which  has  oft  been  told ; 
And  which  the  Indian  maiden  whispers  low 
When  snow  white  cloucls  hang  over  Palomar. 

THE  HIDDEN  CABIN. 

The  rugged  sides  of  Palomar  are  deep 
With  canyons  cleft,  where  raging  floods  have  made 
Their  downward  path  and  held  their  course  unchained. 
Beyond  the  eagle's  nest  and  rocky  crag, 
Where  giant  arborvitaes  throw  their  plumes 
Athwart  the  sky;  and  crystal  waters  cold 

12 


And  pure,  come  sparkling  from  a  mountain  spring; 

By  bending  boughs  and  tangled  vines  shut  out 

From  view,  the  hidden  cabin  stood ;  and  there 

Today  it  stands,  and  there  has  stood  unkept, 

In  mystery  wrapped,  a  hundred  years  or  more 

Since  its  last  tenant  left  it  there  alone. 

It  stands  where  it  was  builded  long  ago; 

Yet  not  the  same  as  in  the  days  of  old, 

For  long  disuse  and  winters'  storms  and  rain 

Have  left  their  mark ;  but  still  enough  remains 

To  show  that  in  the  hands  of  him  who  built 

No  joiner's  tools  were  held;  divested  of 

All  metals  with  sharp  edge  save  only  axe 

And  auger,  which  he  plied  with  master  hand 

To  hew  the  timbers  smooth,  and  cut  and  fit 

The  doors  and  frames;  and  fitting,  through  these  sent 

The  auger's  teeth  to  clear  the  way  for  pins 

Of  wood  with  which  he  made  all  fast  and  strong. 

A  strange,  pathetic  story  centers  round 
This  lonely  spot;  the  story  of  a  true 
And  faithful  soul  who  counted  life  best  spent 
By  those  who  strive  to  crucify  the  flesh, 
And  emulate — as  best  poor  mortal  may — 

13 


The  life  of  Him  who  lived  and  died  f cr  love ; 
For  love  of  those  who  loved  and  hated  Him. 


CEDRIC  VAUGHN. 

Classmates  were  Cedric  Vaughn  and  Homer  Lee. 
Cedric  from  the  southland  came,  and  in  his 
Veins  there  flowed — tho'  mixed  with  Anglo-Saxon — 
A  trace  of  Montezuma  blood,  the  same 
As  that  of  those  who  met  with  sharpened  steel 
The  hosts  of  Cortez  on  the  bloody  plains 
Of  Otumba.    In  the  lightsome  morning 
Of  his  happy  youth,  he  saw  that  twain  who 
Gave  him  life  and  love,  with  all  his  kindred, 
By  savage  hands  struck  down!  struck  down  and  flung 
Amid  the  blazing  ruins  of  their  home. 
With  superhuman  strength  he  stood  beside 
His  father  'till  he  fell ;  and  then  fought  on 
Like  wounded  tiger,  grimly  courting  death. 

Filled  with  pagan  superstition,  that  wild 
Robber  chief — when  he  saw  brave  Cedric's  blade 
Cleave  skull  and  flesh,  and  break  like  slender  reeds 
The  spears  of  those  who  came  upon  him  three 

14 


To  one — thought  him  protected  by  the  gods 
And  made  immune  to  blows  of  mortal  hands ; 
Stricken  with  fear  lest  in  revengeful  wrath 
They  turn  on  him,  fell  on  his  spear  and  died. 
Then  the  others  fled  and  Cedric's  life  was 
Spared.    He,  wand'ring  aimless  o'er  the  waste 
Scarce  knowing  where  his  footsteps  led,  came  where 
Terraced  hills  sloped  to  a  narrow  harbor. 
He  knew  the  place  and  knew  his  father  had 
Been  well  known  there  and  much  respected  for 
Fair  dealing,  when  in  trade  he  bought  and  sold; 
Not  many  days  before,  they  together 
Had  come  down  this  dusty  trail  and  returned 
With  family  stores.    Sadly  he  walked  on,  his 
Poor  heart  bleeding  at  remembrance  of  those 
Happy  hours  now  gone,  when  suddenly  he 
Carne  upon  the  spot  where  they  had  rested 
By  a  spring  and  led  their  horses  down; 
Here  lay  the  branch  his  father's  hand  had  used 
To  urge  the  horses  on;  and  half  trodden 
In  the  mold,  and  scattered  round,  the  paper 
Which  he  had  seen  his  mother's  loving  hands 
Wrap  'round  the  food  prepared  by  her  for  them. 
Now,  for  the  first,  he  realized  his  loss. 

15 


Upon  the  cold,  damp  bosom  of  the  earth 
He  laid  his  head  and  wept — alone!  Beneath 
The  bending  skies  and  sighing  boughs;  no  loving 
Hand  upon  his  brow ;  no  ear  to  hear  the 
Groans  that  shook  his  iron  frame;  nor  knew  he 
How  near  in  that  dark  hour  the  heart  of  Him 
Who  suffered  in  the  garden  all  alone 
Was  bending  down  to  his.      The  soul  may  weep 
And  still  the  flesh  demand  its  own:  Too  proud 
To  eat  the  bread  of  charity,  he  sought 
And  found  employment  in  the  mines.     He  worked 
With  heavy  heart,  crushed  for  a  time  by  dark 
Despair;  and  giving  way  to  hunger  for 
Revenge,  he  well-nigh  fell;  but  when  at  last 
A  kindly  light  broke  thro'  the  gloom  of  his 
Black  night  of  grief,  and  he  could  say,  "Thy  will 
Be  done";  in  him  awoke  new  life  and  hope 
And  high  resolve  to  make  of  his  own  life 
A  memorial  to  them;  and  to  strive 
To  reach  the  measure  of  their  highest  hope. 
To  this  end  he  hoarded  all  his  earnings, 
And  with  the  salvage  from  the  wreck  of  their 
Estate,  went  bravely  forth,  determined  to 
Fulfill  their  wish  so  oft  expres'd  that  he 

16 


Might  go  away  to  school — they  named  the  school- 
The  greatest  in  the  northland,  whence  they  hoped 
To  see  him  come  one  day  with  cultured  mind. 


HOMER   LEE. 

Homer  Lee  was  born  and  reared  upon  the 
Sacred  ground  where  beacon  lights  were  kindl'd 
On  the  hills,  before  the  war  that  broke  the 
Chains  of  monarchy  and  set  this  nation 
Free.     His  father  owned  ships  and  lands  and 
Merchandise;  and  the  son — the  eldest  born — 
Had  never  known  a  wish  ungratified. 
Albeit,  he  was  not  puffed  up,  or  vain, 
Or  churlish  by  over-much  indulgence, 
For  he  was  nurtured  in  the  Quaker  faith, 
And  early  taught  to  draw  the  line  'twixt 
Right  and  wrong;  and  measure  men  by  what 
They   are  and  not  by  what  they  have  or  say. 

Unlike  in  all  respects  were  Cedric  Vaughn 
And  Homer  Lee,  save  in  those  noble  traits 
Of  character  which  make  men  strong  and  brave 
And  true.    Homer,  lighter  built  and  younger, 

17 


But  noted  for  his  prowess — when  he  met 

The  tall,  dark,  princely  stranger  from  the  south, 

As  by  the  power  of  some  magnetic  chain 

Was  strangely  drawn  to  him.    Touched  by  the  kind 

Demeanor  of  this  fair-haired,  happy  youth, 

Cedric's  heart  went  out  to  him.    So,  as  the 

Years  went  by,  between  them  grew  a  friendship 

Strong  as  that  of  Pythias  and  his  friend. 


DORA   LEE. 

Homer's  sister,  Dora  Lee,  rejoiced  at 
Their  success,  or  wept  when  disappointment 
Crossed  their  path.    Likewise,  she  shared  in  all  their 
Happy  leisure  hours,  when  sailing  on  the 
Bay,  or  riding  horseback  o'er  the  hills.    And 
When  their  united  strength  their  pennant  saved, 
The  campus  rang  with  shouts  of  victory 
And  plaudits  for  the  heroes  of  the  day, 
She  wept  for  joy.    Dora  Lee  loved  Cedric, 
But  he  knew  it  not  nor  dreamed  that  she  whose 
Faithful  heart  could  never  love  but  one, 
Had  consecrated  that  one  love  to  him. 

18 


UNIVERSITY 

OF 

Their  college  days  were  drawing  to  a  close; 
And  nearer  came  the  day  when  these  two  friends 
Must  each  go  out  to  meet  the  sterner  life — 
The  one  to  fill  the  place  prepared  for  him ; 
The  other,  empty  handed  and  alone. 
Their  intercourse — to  each  a  priceless  boon — 
Had  ne'er  been  marred  by  shadow  of  distrust. 
A  diamond  careless  thrown  upon  the  sand, 
May  change  the  gentle  current  of  a  stream. 
And  so  it  chanced  the  even  current  of 
Their  fellowship  was  broken. 

LOLA  VAIL. 

Lola  Vaif,— 

Her  father,  a  rich  planter,  owned  a  vast 
Estate  upon  the  banks  of  that  great  stream 
Which  gathers  up  the  waters  of  the  land 
And  sweeps  them  onward  to  the  gulf.    Half  way 
To  that  strange  southern  land  whence  Cedric  came 
Was  Lola  born — a  schoolmate,  friend  and  guest 
Of  Dora  Lee,  and  much  like  her;  or  as  she 
Would  appear  with  three  more  years  of  summers' 
Sun  to  paint  with  ruddier  glow  the  bloom  of 

19 


Health  upon  her  cheek,  and  tint  with  deeper 
Gold  her  ample  braids ;  in  purity  of 
Thought  and  loyalty,  they  also  were  alike. 

Lola's  mother  died  when  she  was  young,  and 
Her  father,  bringing  home  a  Creole  wife, 
Unwittingly  neglected  her;  and  thought 
His  duty  done  when  he  provided  for 
The  child  a  nurse — an  aged  Octoroon — 
A  pious  soul,  who  gave  to  Lola  all 
The  love  she  knew  in  her  sweet  childhood  life; 
And  filled  the  tender  mind  with  holy  thoughts 
And  pure.     And  Lola  daily  gathered  flowers 
And,  weeping,  laid  them  on  her  mother's  grave. 
When  she  was  older  grown,  her  father  took 
Her  to  the  north,  she  and  her  faithful  nurse, 
To  bide  until  she  grew  to  womanhood. 
Her  education  finished,  her  father 
Called  her  home,  but  she  begged  to  tarry,  yet 
A  few  more  days  and  visit  with  her  friend. 

Thus  it  chanced  to  come  about  that  Cedric 
Vaughn  and  Homer  Lee  met  sweet  Lola  Vail 
And  loved  her,  each  in  his  own  way — Cedric, 

20 


With  all  the  fervor  of  his  sincere  soul — 

And  Homer  worship'd  her,  forgetting  for 

The  time  his  own  betrothed.    Cedric  told  her 

All,  she  sitting  by  his  side  in  shady 

Bower,  upon  a  wooded  isle,  their  boat  drawn 

Up  below  upon  the  pebbly  beach.     He 

Told  the  story  of  his  life,  as  one  a 

Painful  duty  would  perform.     "She  must  know 

The  truth."      And  keeping  nothing  back,  he  told 

Her  of  his  birth  and  lineage — which  was 

Equal  to  her  own — his  loss  of  home  and 

Wealth;  his  lofty  aspirations;  high  hopes 

Now  partly  realized,  though  penniless; 

But  he  was  going  back  to  that  same  land 

Where  he  had  delved;  and  there  would  he  employ 

The  knowledge  gained  of  placer,  drift  and  ledge, 

And  engineering,  to  locate  and  bring 

Forth  rich  treasure  from  the  earth,  and  in  a 

Few  short  years  would  he  return  with  wealth  and 

Build  a  costly  home  for  her  in  some  great 

City, — she  might  name  the  place.  "Could  she  love 

Him?    Would  she  wait  for  him?"    She  answered  not 

By  spoken  word,  but  when  she  lifted  her 

Fond  eyes  to  his,  he  read  the  sweet  response. 

21 


By  his  strong  arms  encircled  tenderly, 
Her  head  upon  his  breast,  she  wept  for  joy; 
And  speaking  through  her  tears:  "Oh,  leave  me  not, 
But  let  me  share  your  lot  whatever  it  be — 
A  palace  or  a  cot — I  would  leave  all 
The  world,  my  Cedric,  dear,  and  go  with  thee." 
But  Cedric  kindly  told  her  of  the  place, 
Its  roughness,  the  peons  there;  and  frankly, 
But  perhaps  unwise,  he  spoke  of  dangers 
From  the  wild  bandits.     It  was  no  place  for 
One  so  sweet  and  gentle  as  his  own  dear 
Lola;  it  were  better  she  obey  her 
Father's  call.    That  day,  a  week,  the  ship  that 
He  expected  her  to  take,  would  leave  that 
Port.    It  would  not  be  long ;  he  would  stop  there 
On  his  way  and  see  her  father,  speak  to 
Him,  as  man  to  man  should  speak,  all  fair  and 
honorable.     The  wisdom  of  his  speech 
She  saw  and  cheerful  yielded  to  his  will. 
With  fervid  kiss  their  pledges  sealed,  they  sat 
In  sweet  converse  till  lengthening  shadows  called; 
Then  spread  their  sail  and  shoreward  set  the  prow 
Of  their  light  craft.      With  rosy  finger  tips 
She  swept  the  strings  of  her  guitar  and  sang: 

22 


"What  fairy-like  music  steals  over  the  sea, 
Entrancing  the  senses  with  calm  melody  ? 
'Tis  the  voice  of  the  mermaid  as  she  floats  o'er  the  main, 
And  mingles  her  notes  with  the  gondolier's  strain." 

Homer  and  his  sister,  waiting  at  the 
Mooring,  by  their  merry  laughter  and  love 
Glances,  half  concealed,  each  read  their  secret; 
And  reading,  saw  the  fading  shadows  of 
Their  hope.      Each  concealed  the  pang ;  and  laughing, 
Teased  the  truants  for  their  tardiness.    Then 
Timidly  the  lovers  made  confession. 
"And  we  will  pray,"  said  Homer,  "that  to  you 
Be  given  the  fullness  of  all  earthly 
Joy,  and  then  the  sweetest  bliss  of  heaven." 

Lola  left  them;  and  the  three  in  silence 
Watched  her  waving  from  the  deck;  and  saw  the 
Good  ship  fading  in  the  offing  vanish, 
Where  bending  skies  come  down  to  meet  the  sea ; 
Then  sadly  turned  away — each  heart,  wounded 
By  a  shaft  from  Cupid's  bow ;  arrows  from 
His  quiver,  unaimed,  ofttimes  fly  amiss. 

Too  high  born  and  proud  were  Dora  Lee 
And  Homer  to  harbor  in  their  minds  dark 

23 


Jealousies,  or  thoughts  unkind;  but  Homer 
Was  disconsolate;  and  Dora,  cheering, 
Said :  "You  surely  will  forget  your  grief ;  and 
Going  back  to  your  first  love  will  marry 
Her  and  love  her  evermore;  for  no  true 
Heart  can  ever  love  but  one.    So  it  was 
Her  prophecy  came  true.    Dora  loved  with 
Woman's  constancy;  and  womanlike    found 
Comfort  in  the  secret  hope  (while  wishing 
Naught  but  good  for  Lola  Vail),  the  idle  hope 
That  she  one  day  would  marry  Cedric  Vaughn. 

If  in  the  spirit  world  departed  ones 
Can  see  with  joy  a  loved  one  plodding  on, 
And  faithful  to  the  end,  achieve  at  last 
The  worthy  object  sought,  then  there  was  joy 
Above  when  Cedric  led  the  class  and  gained 
The  highest  meed  of  praise  for  work  well  done. 

Cedric  saw,  or  tho't  he  saw,  a  shorter 
Way  to  competence  than  any  of  the 
Kindly  offers  of  a  place  which,  without 
His  asking,  came  to  him;  a  great  law  firm 
Wanted  him;  a  professorship  in  that 

24 


Same  college  he  could  have;  in  the  counting 
House  and  busy  marts  of  commerce  there  were 
Many  op'nings  for  one  as  he  so  well 
Endowed  and  popular.      He  declined  them 
All;  and  yet  so  gracefully,  with  thanks,  that 
They  were  urged  upon  him  all  the  more;  but 
He  had  fixed  his  mind  on  going  back,  see 
Lola  on  his  way,  then  hasten  on  to 
Carry  out  his  plans;  for  each  hour  improved 
Would  bring  them  nearer  to  their  wedding  day. 

On  the  morn  of  his  departure,  a  throng 
Of  gay  young  friends  came,  bearing  tokens  of 
Their  friendship,  souvenirs  of  college  days, 
And  bidding  him  God-speed  upon  his  way. 
He  keenly  felt  the  sting  of  parting  with 
His  friends ;  but  when  he  came  to  say  good-bye 
To  Homer,  that  was  hardest  of  it  all. 
When  Dora  gave  the  parting  hand,  and  in 
Her  large  blue  eyes  he  saw  the  gathering 
Tears,  that  tell-tale  look  of  love  she  fain  would 
Hide;  that  yearning  look  of  hopeless  love 
Like  arrow  pierced  his  soul  with  deep  regret, 
And  haunted  him  thro'  all  the  coming  years. 

25 


THE  VOYAGE. 

With  varying  winds  the  good  ship  sailed  thro' 
Summer  sea.     At  times  translucent  clouds  were 
Flung  across  its  way  like  twilight  mists,  and 
Then  anon  the  sun  burst  forth.     With  lowering 
Winds  and  listless  sail  they  drifted  dreamily 
Beneath  the  turquoise  skies.     When  at  night  the 
Mellow  moonlight  made  its  path  across  the 
Waves,  Cedric  paced  the  deck  impatiently; 
And  in  his  restless  dreams  he  saw  the  face 
And  form  of  Lola;  felt  her  soft  breath  on 
His  cheek,  her  arms  entwined  about  his  neck 
In  heavenly  bliss. 

At  some  port  discharging 
Freightage,  the  ship  would  often  linger  for 
A  day,  and  those  on  board  would  wander  thro' 
The  town.    Once  they  saw  a  vessel  that  plied 
Between  that  southern  coast  and  Africa 
Unload  its  cargo — human  souls,  who  had 
Been  stolen  from  their  home  and  brought  to  this 
Free  country  to  be  sold  to  servitude. 
The  buyers,  richly  dressed  and  bedecked  with 
Diamonds,  stood  like  drovers  waiting  at  the 

26 


Cattle  pens  to  buy.     One  gentleman  with 
Pistol  at  his  belt,  true  type  of  southern 
Cavalier,  took  a  mother  from  her  child; 
Cedric  pled  with  him  to  buy  the  baby 
Too.    He  was  answered  by  an  insult,  and 
Derided  for  his  pity  for  "the  brat." 
Unmindful  of  the  insult  to  himself, 
He  persevered  and  gained  consent  to  buy 
The  child  and  place  it  in  its  mother's  arms. 

Off  the  south-most  coast  they  saw  the  isle, 
The  magic  isle  of  Bimini,  where  the 
Indian  sages  told  De  Leon  he 
Would  find  the  fountain  of  eternal  youth. 
Thence  onward  thro'  the  gulf,  and  near  that  quaint 
Old  Crescent  City,  he  found  his  darling 
Lola.       Near  the  city  in  a  lovely 
Urban  villa  on  the  rich  plantation 
Of  her  father,  where  the  oleanders 
Bloom,  and  palmettos  wave  their  fronded  plumes, 
They  met  once  more.    Her  father,  Colonel  Vail, 
Was  absent ;  would  return  in  one  week  more. 
Six  days,  six  blissful  days,  from  early  morn 
Till  eve,  the  lovers  wandered  'mid  the  scenes 

27 


To  her,  so  rich  in  hallowed  memories. 

Sitting  by  her  mother's  grave,  she  told  him 
How  unlike  the  days  of  old  she  found  her 
Home.     Her  father,  with  advancing  age  and 
Growing  wealth,  had  changed;  become  more  like  the 
One  who  filled  her  mother's  place,  purse-proud  and 
Haughty.    He  had  hinted  at  a  union 
That  he  desired  for  her,  and  she  feared  he 
Would  not  look  with  favor  on  her  Cedric. 

Like  as  the  vine  twines  with  the  sturdy  oak 
And  clings  the  stronger  when  the  north  wind  blows, 
So  she,  as  moved  by  some  foreboding,  clung 
To  him,  and  begged  that  she  might  go  with  him 
To  that  far  land;  and  coaxingly  she  said: 
"Who  will  spread  the  table  for  my  Cedric? 
Or  smooth  his  pillow?     Or  if  mishap  befall, 
Nurse  him  back  to  health?     If  he  goes  alone, 
I  ne'er  shall  look  upon  his  face  again." 

He  kissed  away  her  tears  and  playfully 
Made  light  of  her  misgiving;  yet  he  was 
Sorely  tempted,  and  well-nigh  gave  way  to 

28 


His  desire ;  but  that  high  sense  of  honor, 
And  solicitude  for  her,  gave  him  the 
Mastery  over  self.    And  from  that  hour 
He  never  knew  a  thought  of  selfishness. 
He  soothed  ner  fears;  and  by  words  of  wisdom, 
(As  before)  soon  brought  her  judgment  into 
Sweet  accord  with  his.     But  it  was  agreed 
That  if  her  father  answered  his  request 
With  scorn,  or  treated  him  unkindly,  there 
Would  be  no  angry  words.      That  he  would  go 
And  never  ask  again.      When  he  returned, 
Would  take  her  as  his  rightful  own ;  and  then 
He  held  her  to  his  breast,  and  laid  upon 
Her  lips  what  they  both  well  knew  might  be  his 
Farewell  kiss.      For  even  then  they  saw  her 
Father's  carriage  coming  up  the  drive.    When 
They  met  and  she  presented  her  betrothed, 
Cedric  recognized  the  man  who  bought  the 
Slave  and  would  have  torn  the  infant  from  its 
Mother's  breast.    Yet,  speaking  calmly,  told  him 
Who  he  was,  whence  and  why  he  came ;  told  all 
Manfully;  and  the  Colonel  heard  him  thro'. 

Then,  with  derisive  laugh,  he  taunted  him 

29 


For  his  presumption:  "A  pauper,  begging 

For  a  queen!     Nay,  nay!     The  one  who  gains  my 

Daughter's  hand  must  have  a  bank  account  or 

Property  in  land  or  slaves."    The  hot  blood 

Rushing  to  his  brow,  he  boldly  answered: 

"I  go,  accepting  these  conditions,  but 

Surely  will  return."     Then,   taking  Lola's 

Hand,  said  cheerfully :  "  'Till  then,  good-bye."    With 

Tearless  eyes  she  proudly  looked  upon  her 

Cedric,  and  stood  as  strong  and  brave  as  he. 

THE   MINES. 

When  Cedric  reached  that  country  where  precious 
Metals  and  bright  gems,  by  nature's  cunning 
Hand  are  tucked  away  and  hidden  in  the 
Rocks  or  scattered  in  the  sands,  he  found  a 
Dusky  peon — Jose  Morales — whom  he 
Had  known  and  trusted,  and  took  him  with  his 
Train  of  donkeys  packed  with  stores;  with  miner's 
Pick  and  spade  and  crucible,  he  bravely 
Plunged  into  the  wilderness.      For  many 
Long  and  weary  days  he  sought  among  the 
Dry  Lomitas,  sought  in  vain  beneath  a 

30 


Tropic  sun,  lured  on  by  prospects  that  proved 

Valueless.    And  when  at  last  he  found  a 

Vein  of  quartz  that  sparkled  with  the  golden 

Grains,  he  was  compelled  to  leave  it  there,  to 

Wait  thro'  long  decades  for  other  hands  to 

Come  with  stamp  and  chemicals  to  crush  the 

Rock  and  bear  away  the  millions  he  had 

Found.      He  working,  saw  the  months  pass  by,  but 

Labored  on  with  Lola  ever  in  his 

Mind.      Anon  there  crept  before  his  sight 

A  vision  of  that  peaceful  shore  where  first 

They  met, — a  cottage  home — his  Lola  with 

A  blue-eyed  baby  kneeling  by  her  side, 

White  robed,  with  golden  curls,  in  attitude 

Of  prayer — that  evening  prayer  by  mother  taught; 

Then  he  saw  the  blessings  of  the  simpler, 

Holy  life;  saw  that  wealth  is  least  of  all. 

One  day  Morales  in  quest  of  water 
Sent,  returned  in  great  excitement,  crying 
"Oro  grande,  senor!     Oro  grande!" 
In  a  deep  arroyo  in  the  sands  for 
Ages  washed  by  floods  from  mountain  storm, 
Jose  had  discovered  as  he  said,  "much 

31 


Gold."      In  cup-like  hollows  of  the  rocks  by 
Falling  waters  worn  away — in  yellow 
Nuggets  buried  in  the  sand — he  found  the 
Glittering  fortune  they  so  long  had  sought. 
This  he  changed  for  currency  of  lighter 
Weight  and  coin,  in  that  old  city  where  his 
Forbears  died;  then  to  the  seaport  sped,  there 
Impatient  waited  for  the  ship  to  come 
And  carry  him  in  triumph  to  his  bride. 

BEN   RUBIDEAUX. 

The  consul,  seeking  Cedric,  told  him  he 
Had  sent  a  messenger  in  search  of  him 
With  letters,  and  gave  him  one  from  Lola, 
Requesting  that  the  messenger  be  sent. 
Cedric  sent  Morales  to  intercept 
The  messenger  and  bring  the  letters  back. 
This  the  faithful  fellow  did,  and  Cedric 
Read  them  with  dismay.     Morales  saw  the 
Troubled  look  on  Cedric's  face  and  begged  to 
Go  with  him.    With  his  tamales,  and  his 
Mascal,  and  being  Cedric's  servant,  he 
Was  satisfied.      He  cared  not  for  his  share; 

32 


Would  leave  it  all  with  him.      Cedric,  with  real 
Affection,  grateful  for  his  faithfulness, 
Told  him  he  might  go  and  evermore  abide 
With  him. 

He  read  the  letters  o'er  and 
O'er  with  sinking  heart,  read  Lola's  letters. 
Beginning  at  the  first,  he  read  how  proud 
Of  him  she  was  when  he  "so  grandly  stood 
Before  her  father,  with  the  bearing  of 
A  king,  and  faced  him  in  his  wrath;"  then  of 
Her  sad  and  lonely  days  when  he  was  gone; 
How  her  father  sought  by  gentleness  to 
Mould  her  to  his  will  and  bring  her  to  forget 
The  one  she  loved.     Of  the  attention  paid 
By  Simon  Blake,  her  father's  friend  and  boon 
Companion,  the  man  he  wanted  her  to 
Wed, — a  vile,  besotted  wretch  who  knew  no 
God  but  gold ;  she  hated  gold  and  wished  that 
He  might  come  back  poor  in  all  but  love  and 
Purity  of  soul,  with  which  no  other 
Riches  can  compare. 


33 


This  man  had  urged  his 
Suit  until  she  had  exhausted  all  the 
Harmless  arts  of  womanhood  to  evade 
His  coarse  advances,  praying  daily  that 
Her  Cedric  would  return;  when  he  boldly 
Claimed  her  hand,  she  told  him,  "No;"  he  bro't  her 
Father  who  commanded  that  she  wed  him; 
She,  helpless  in  their  hands,  had  pled  for  time — 
One  more  year;  then,  if  Cedric  had  not  come, 
Her  answer  they  should  have.       One  day  she,  in 
An  arbor  half  hidden  in  the  trellis, 
Had  heard  her  father's  overseer,  Ben 
Rubideaux,  and  Simon  Blake  make  bargain 
That  for  a  sum  the  overseer  would  watch 
For  Cedric  and  murder  him  if  he  should 
Come.      She  knew  he  did  not  fear  them  all,  but 
For  her  sake,  she  begged  him  not  to  venture 
There.       She  gave  a  number  in  the  city 
Where  he  would  find  a  friend,  a  lady  friend, 
Of  hers.      It  was  arranged  that  she  should  come 
For  her.       Then,  as  his  lawful  wife,  he  could 
Defend  her  and  himself,  if  needs  must  be. 
'Twere  best  that  he  should  come  with  pistols,  armed; 
Ben  Rubideaux  and  Blake  were  desperate 

34 


And  wicked  men.     She  wrote,  fearing  lest  her 
Letters  would  not  be  received;  since  he  left, 
She  had  received  no  word  from  him;  she  knew 
That  he  would  write,  but  they  had  come  between. 


THE  WEDDING. 

This  plan  was  not  to  Cedric's  liking  for 
He  would  fain  have  gone  openly  and  claimed 
His  bride,  but  for  her  sake  he  acquiesced, 
And  in  his  servant's  name  he  took  a  house, 
A   lovely   house,   in   quiet   place   apart. 
There  Lola  came,  and  as  the  light  of  slow 
Descending  sun  proclaimed  the  dying  day, 
And  zephyrs  laden  with  the  breath  of  bloom 
And  tuneful  with  the  song  of  mocking  bird, 
Were  wafted  from  the  sea,  then  from  the  mission 
Came  the  parish  priest,  and  in  soft  accents 
Of  the  Spanish  tongue,  pronounced  the  holy 
Words  that  made  them  one.      No  other  witness 
Than  his  servant  and  her  friend.      And  there  thro' 
Long  and  dreamy,  blissful  days,  they  passed  their 
Honeymoon. 

35 


Morales,  with  his  native 
Instinct,  saw  that  danger  hovered  over 
Cedric;  and,  unknown  to  him,  he  shadowed 
All  his  steps.      One  night  a  messenger  in 
Haste  came  to  the  door,  told  Cedric  that  his 
Servant  was  in  trouble,  needed  him;  he 
Went,  not  knowing  that  his  faithful  Jose 
Shadowed  them.      When  near  the  water  front  the 
Stranger  fled;  and  from  the  cotton  bales  and 
Freightage  piled  upon  the  dock,  two  ruffians 
Sprang  on  Cedric.       When  the  light  of  morning 
Dawned,  the  lifeless  forms  of  Simon  Blake,  Ben 
Rubideaux  and  poor  Morales  were  found 
Lying  on  the  bloody  dock. 

All  night  Lola 

Paced  the  floor  in  anguish,  list'ning  for  the 
Footsteps  that  came  not.      Nor  knew  she  of  the 
Tragedy  until  she  read:  "Murdered!  In  the 
Night!     Two  citizens  of  high  repute  shot  down! 
But  not  until  one  of  the  murderers 
(A  bearded  foreigner)  was  killed  by  them. 
The  other  has  escaped,  but  the  mob  is 
On  his  track  and  he  will  soon  be  taken." 

36 


The  paper  gave  a  good  description  of 

Her  husband,  which  she  doubted  not,  was  given 

By  the  man  who  called  for  him.    If  she  should 

Speak,  it  would  bring  harm  to  Cedric;  he  might 

Escape  and  come  to  her;  so,  taking  hope, 

With  one  trusty  servant  she  in  hiding 

Waited  there.       Her  friend  had  gone  and  no  one 

Knew  of  her  abiding  place. 

The  weary 

Weeks  and  months  rolled  by;  she  pined,  and  passing 
Near  the  gates  of  death,  awoke  to  find  a 
Blue-eyed  baby  by  her  side — the  child  of 
Cedric's  dreams.    The  months  passed  by  and  still 
No  word  from  Cedric  came.    She,  yielding  to 
Her  grief  and  drooping,  faded  as  a  flower 
That  withering  in  decadence  fades  away. 
The  rosy  seraph  sent — so  kindly  sent — 
From  heaven  to  be  the  precious  idol  of 
Her  solitude,  and  his,  grew  strong  and  more 
Angelic  as  the  passing  days  went  by. 

When  the  ruffians  from  the  darkness  sprang  on 
Cedric,  with  ready  shot,  the  foremost  fell; 

37 


But  the  bludgeon  of  the  other  laid  him 
Low;  then,  as  the  fatal  blow  was  falling, 
Morales  coming,  threw  himself  between; 
And  in  deadly  combat  grappled  with  Ben 
Rubideaux.       With  bowie  knives  they  struggled, 
Each  receiving  fatal  thrusts,  nor  yielded 
Until  weak  from  loss  of  blood,  they  parting 
Fell;  Morales'  bowie  buried  in  the 
Heart  of  Rubideaux.      Cedric  lay  for  hours, 
Unconscious;  then,  his  strength  returning,  he 
Rose,  and  dazed,  bewildered,  groped  along  the 
Frontage,  stag'ring  like  a  drunken  man;  the 
Stevedores  thought  him  one  returning  from  a 
Night's  debauch.       He  in  the  early  morning, 
Came  where  a  boat  was  loosening  its  cables 
From  the  wharf;  and  unnoticed,  stumbled  on 
And  fell  among  the  luggage  in  a  swoon. 


THE  MYSTIC  TOKEN. 

The  boat — bound  for  the  Indies — was  well  out 
On  the  gulf  before  they  found  and  lifted 
Him;  nor  knew  they  of  the  tragedy  upon 

The   dock,   or   that   he   was   hunted   as   a 

38 


Murderer.       They  finding  on  his  person 

The  token  of  a  craft  which  they  revere'd, 

They  cared  for  him  and  left  him  safely  in 

An  island  city  of  the  Southern  Sea. 

There  his  brother  craftsmen  gathering  round  him, 

Nursing — raised  him — raised  him  as  one  from  the 

Dead.       From  the  "Valley  of  the  Shadows"  brought 

Him  forth  to  perfect  health  and  vigor;  but 

Alas!  the  silken  cord  that  erstwhile  bound 

Him  to  the  past,  was  broken!     Memory 

Was  gone!     Nor,  with  active  mind  and  clear,  could 

He  recall  the  past,  tell  his  name  or  whence 

He  came.       He  strove  to  lift  the  veil  and  look 

Beyond  the  wall  of  night  that  intervened. 

That  cruel  blow  had  caused  a  lesion  of 

The  brain — a  lapse  of  memory  complete. 

As  the  wire  that  bears  the  hidden  current 

Broken,  swaying  in  the  breeze,  connecting 

Sends  a  gleam  across  the  night,  so  at  times 

Bright  gleams  of  memory,  almost  taking 

Shape,  would  light  his  way;  then  leaving  him  in 

Greater  darkness,  would  as  quickly  fly  away. 


39 


Gradually  came  before  his  sight,  as 
Dimly  seen  thro'  nebulae,  the  outlines 
Of  a  form  and  face  came  from  the  misty 
Moonlight  of  the  past.      At  last,  came  back  to 
Him,  that  picture  which  had  made  the  deepest 
Imprint  on  his  mind — his  Lola,  as  he 
Saw  her  standing  by  her  father's  side.       But 
When  was  this?    And  where?      And  who  was  she? 
By  exercise  of  all  the  strength  of  his 
Great  will,  her  name  once  more  came  back  to  him, 
And  then  her  father's ;  then  the  city  where 
They  lived;  and  then  it  was  borne  in  on  him 
That  she  was  his  betrothed;  that  he  had  gone 
To  that  fair  isle  to  make  a  home  for  her. 
Now,  having  gained  the  wherewithal,  he  could 
Go  and  bring  her.     With  this  thought,  the  flame  of 
Love  rekindled  blazed  anew,  as  clearly 
He  remembered  those  six  happy  days  of 
Love  with  her — what  she  said,  his  promises; 
And  now — his  hot  blood  leaping  to  the  call, 
He  hastened  on  his  way.       Arriving  there, 
He  straightway  went  to  find  her  father's 
Home  and  claim  her  as  he  swore  to  do  the 
Day  he  left  her  there.       The  Colonel  met  him 

40 


With  a  scornful  smile  and  said:  "So  you  have 
Come?      You  may  have  her,  if  you  wish  for  such 
As  she."       Breaking  forth  in  rage,  he  cried — with 
Oaths--"Go!  Find  her  at  the  hospital"— he 
Told  the  driver  where— "Go!  Find  her  with  her 
Child  of  shame;  they  are  good  enough  for  you! 
I  care  not  if  she  fills  a  harlot's  grave." 


THE  STOLEN  CHILD. 

Cedric,  smitten  almost  to  the  death,  bade 
The  driver  go  with  haste.      He  found  her  and 
She,  smiling,  whispered  low:  "My  Cedric,  you 
Have  come  to  meet  me.    Is  this  heaven?"  then  placed 
The  baby  hand  in  his  and  falling  back, 
She  was  indeed  in  heaven.       Cedric,  tearless, 
For  a  moment  stood  as  one  struck  dumb;  then 
Took  the  baby  in  his  arms.    She  too  young 
To  understand,  or  lisp  her  mother's  name 
Or  his,  as  though  instinctively,  she  threw 
Her  rosy  arms  about  his  neck  and  kissed 
Him.     Then  confiding,  laid  her  golden  curls 
Upon  his  breast.      The  nurses,  thinking  him 

41 


A  base  deserter,  hoping  he  at  least 

Would  own  the  child,  and  seeing  him  caress 

It — placed  tenderly  its  costly  wrappings 

'Round,  and  quickly  packed  its  ample  clothing, 

Gave  it  him.     He  kissed  the  marble  brow  and 

Turning  to  the  one  who  had  the  right  to 

Speak  for  all,  he  inquired  about  the  rites 

And  ceremonies  of  her  faith,  "Were  they 

Performed?"  "Yes,"  the  matron  said,  "the  good  priest 

Has  been  often  by  her  side,  left  her  just 

Before  you  came;  the  one  who  married  her." 

He  paced  the  hall  and  pondered,  mystified. 
What  he  had  heard  and  seen  had  set  his  brain 
Awhirl.     So  she  was  married!  Then  to  whom? 
Her  husband  might  at  any  moment  come 
And  claim  his  child — claim  Lola's  child — he  quick 
Resolved  to  take  the  babe  and  give  his  life 
To  her — to  care  for  her,  for  Lola's  sake; 
For  she  was  Lola's  child,  if  not  his  own. 
They  must  not  know  that  he  was  not  the  one 
Who  married  her.      He  must  not  see  the  priest. 
He,  in  his  frenzy,  cast  aside  all  thought 
Of  right  or  wrong — decided  he  would 

42 


Steal — yea,  lie  or  even  die  before  that 

One  who  had  deserted  her  should  have  her 

Child.      He  gave  them  gold,  and  speaking  calmly, 

(Falsely,  too,  as  he  supposed)  said:  "Tell  them 

Her  husband  ordered  that  her  last  resting 

Place  shall  be  a  mausoleum  grand,  and 

To  him  you  gave  the  child — the  one  to  whom 

It  rightfully  belongs;  say  that  he  loved 

Her  to  the  last,  and  would  that  he  had  died; 

That  she  had  mourned  for  him — not  he  for  her." 

Then,  with  a  farewell  kiss,  he  took  the  child, 

Believing  he  was  stealing  it  away. 

The  baby  clung  to  him  and  was  content. 


But  for  the  child  his  life  had  ended  there; 
Then  there  had  been  no  tie  to  bind,  no  one 
To  love.    The  past  almost  a  blank,  and  in 
The  future  no  alluring  hope,  he  fain 
Had  snap'd  the  slender  thread  of  life,  to  be 
With  Lola  evermore.      Or,  had  he  been 
One  of  the  weaker  kind,  complaining  at 
His  fate,  he  had  perchance  by  slower 
Process,  ended  all  in  low  debauchery. 

43 


THE  WANDERERS. 

But  those  confiding  arms,  that  baby  kiss 
Upon  his  cheek,  sent  thro'  the  aisles  of  his 
Great,  generous  heart,  a  flood  of  newborn 
Love.      To  part  with  her  would  be  indeed  to 
Part  with  life  itself.       He,  thinking  quickly 
And  as  quickly  acting,  fled — took  the  first 
Ship  that  sailed,  nor  asking  whither  it  was 
Bound;  rejoicing  when  it  cleared  the  dock  and 
Seaward  turned  its  prow.    When  learning  that  its 
Course  lay  to  the  north,  he  changed  to  one  bound 
For  the  South  Sea  Isles. 

Sailing  to  and  fro, 

The  changing  seasons  passed  while  they  upon 
The  ocean  cruised  like  wanderers  without 
A  guide ;  he  thinking  only  of  his  charge, 
And  where  he,  in  her  tender  years,  the 
Best  could  care  for  her.      Willing  hands  he  found — 
Mothers'  hands  outstretched  to  take  the  cherub 
From  his  arms.      She,  growing,  Cedric  saw  in 
Her  the  image  of  her  mother — the  same 
Blue  eyes  and  wavy  hair  which  fell  about 
Her  shoulders;  high  arching  brows  and  lashes 

44 


Long  but  darker  shaded,  like  his  own.      He 
Had  thought  to  call  her  Lola;  but  when  the 
Stranger  asked  her  name,  she  lisping  answered, 
"Zola,"    he  left  it  so. 

Tho'  long  before 

The  day  when  ox-carts  plowed  their  dusty  way 
Across  the  plains  to  reach  the  sun  land  slopes, 
The  Eldorado  of  the  west,  he  knew 
Of  that  fair  land  beside  the  sunset  sea — 
That  sunny,  southern  California. 
There  they  would  go,  where  none  would  ever  hear 
The  story  of  the  stolen,  nameless  child; 
And  where  the  recreant  father  ne'er  would 
Come.       There  would  he  seek  and  find  in  sylvan 
Quietude,  the  sweetest  spot  where  Mother 
Nature  reigns  and  in  her  lap,  among  the 
Birds  and  flowers,  would  she  be  reared  in  spotless 
Purity — educated — taught  by  him — 
As  wise  men  of  the  olden  times  received 
Their  learning  from  the  doctors  of  the  law. 

Thitherward  they  sailed;  and  thro'  the  rocky 
Gateways  of  the  cape — tho'  roughly  shaken — 

45 


Safely  passed;  then  to  the  north  thro'  calmer 

Waters,  borne  by  Etesian  winds,  oft-times 

Delayed  by  traffic  at  the  ports,  or  on 

A  glassy  sea  becalmed.      And  once  their  ship 

Was  overtaken  by  an  ugly  craft 

That  bore  the  pirates'  flag;  and  every  man 

On  board  was  called  to  arms;  then  they  were 

Well  nigh  overwhelmed  and  taken.       Cedric, 

Joining  with  the  crew,  fought  valiantly.       Thro' 

The  thickest  of  the  battle,  Zola  clung 

To  him.      When  they  would  have  taken  her  below, 

She  cried,  "Let  me  stay  wiz  papa;  if  he 

Go,  zen  me  go  too."     Cedric  answered,  "Be 

It  so;  we  live  or  die  together."      But 

Their  fears  were  turned  to  great  rejoicing  when 

A  shot  crashed  thro'  the  pirate  craft.    They  sailed 

Away  and  left  it  sinking  in  the  deep. 

Cedric,  by  his,  bravery  and  coolness 
In  the  time  of  danger,  won  respect  and 
Friendship  of  officers  and  crew.       When  they 
Left  him  at  the  mission  of  the  holy 
Padres,  on  the  bay  of  San  Diego, 
Loaded  him  with  costly  presents,  forced  them 

46 


On  him,  presents  for  himself  and  Zola. 
The  angelic  child  had  won  the  hearts  of  all. 

Cedric  told  the  good  Franciscan  fathers 
He  was  going  northward  overland,  and 
Joyously  he  set  about  preparing 
For  the  journey,  she  ever  at  his  side, 
With  childish  prattle,  asking,  "What  is  zis?" 
"What  is  zat?"  and  "What  for?"     He  answering 
Cheerfully  and  evermore  explaining — 
Teaching  her. 

In  her  sweet  companionship 
And  the  certainty  of  keeping  her,  he 
Laid  aside  his  sadness  and  became  as 
Light  of  heart  and  happy  as  herself.      At 
Last  they  were  all  ready  to  begin  their 
Wild  and  free  nomadic  life — a  dozen 
Gentle  burros,  packed  with  all  that  they  might 
Need  for  months  to  come;  a  tent  with  costly 
Furs  and  rugs,  and  blankets  of  bright  colors 
Bo't  from  the  Indians,  with  toys  and  gaudy 
Trinkets;  a  snow-white  pony,  showily 
Equip'd  with  Spanish  bit  and  bridle, 

47 


Upon  its  back  a  basket,  sedan-like, 
With  crimson  canopy,  lined  with  softest 
Silken  draperies,  for  his  "Gypsy  quean." 
A  princess  of  the  Romany  was  ne'er 
Provided  with  such  luxuries  as  she. 

In  the  early  morning,  long  before  the 
Ringing  of  the  mission  bells,  Zola  and 
Her  strange  retinue  set  forth;  the  pony, 
With  its  precious  burden,  led  by  Cedric's 
Hand;  then  came  the  white  milk  goats  with  tinkling 
Bells;  to  the  sound,  the  meek-faced  burros,  trained 
To  follow,  trailed  patiently  behind;  and 
Then  a  faithful  shepherd  dog  to  keep  them 
All  in  line.      They  moved  by  easy  stages, 
Stopping  often  in  some  shady  dell  to 
Rest  and  let  their  burros  feed  upon  the 
Grassy  slopes.       Then  would  Zola  gather  flowers, 
Or  chase  the  yellow  butterflies,  with  shouts 
Of  childish  glee  that  echoed  thro'  the  glen; 
To  him  a  sweeter  music  than  the  chime 
Of  great  cathedral  bells  or  orchestra. 


48 


IN  THE  MOUNTAINS. 

They  exploring,  crossed  the  great  Cuyamaca 
Range,  traversed  its  broad  plateaus,  and  thro'  the 
Silence  of  its  lofty  domes  and  canyons; 
Then  beyond,  where  boiling  waters  gurgling 
Flowed  thro'  Indian  villages.      They  saw 
The  waving  pines  upon  the  lofty  crest 
Of  Palomar;  and  wandering,  vainly  sought 
Along  its  base  for  passage  leading  to 
Its  heights.      They  often  reached  an  eminence, 
And  thought  they  neared  the  goal,  when  overhanging 
Walls  of  granite  turned  them  back.      At  last,  by 
Persevering,  came  upon  its  table- 
Lands;  and  pressing  forward  found  the  place  he 
Long  had  pictured  in  his  mind — the  sheltering 
Boughs  of  giant  trees,  the  gushing  fountain, 
Level  plot  of  fertile  land  below,  well 
Watered  by  the  rivulets  that  trickled 
From  the  springs.       Here  he  sowed  the  garden  seeds 
And  grain ;  and  from  the  chaparral  he  bro't 
The  antlered  buck  and  lesser  game.    The  sweets 
The  toiling  honey  bee  had  stored  away, 
Drip'd  from  the  boles  of  sycamore  and  oak. 
They  happy  lived  in  Nature's  luxury. 

49 


Lest  in  their  quietude  he  might  become 
Indifferent  or  wasteful  of  the  time, 
He  took  up  an  ancient  system  which  they 
Faithfully  observed  thro'  all  their  years  of 
Hermitage — eight  hours  for  labor,  eight  for 
Rest,  and  eight  for  study  and  improvement 
Of  his  mind,  and  teaching  Zola. 

He  was 

The  builder  of  the  hidden  cabin;  for 
Zola  it  was  builded,  for  her  boudoir. 
With  loving  hands,  he  axe  and  auger  plied, 
Without  compass,  square  or  trestle  board, 
But  with  all  the  tenderness  that  ever 
Mother  bird  provided  for  her  nestling. 
He  building,  furnished  it  with  draperies — 
Bright  Indian  blankets,  rugs  and  robes  of 
Fur,  arranging  all  as  beautiful  as 
Tho'  her  mother's  spirit  hands  had  guided 
His.      Perchance  they  did.      If  love  be  spirit, 
And  spirit  love — or  soul — then  such  as  hers 
Might  overleap  the  balustrades  of 
Heaven  and  find  its  own;  or  such  unselfish 
Soul  as  his  might  rise  and  view  the  palace 

50 


Of  the  skies.      He  teaching,  opened  first  the 
Book  of  Nature,  and  strolled  with  her  among 
The  flowers  and  botanized.       Then  to  the  rocks; 
He  told  her  of  the  slow  formations  of 
The  ages.       From  the  books  selected  in 
The  days  when  she  was  cradled  on  the  sea, 
He,  in  learning,  carried  her  beyond  her 
Years. 

"PEG  LEG,  THE  MINER." 

They  marked  the  changing  moons  until  a 
Score  had  glided  by  and  yet  had  seen  no 
Other  human  face  save  one — and  he,  an 
Honest  miner  whom  they  found  in  sorry 
Plight,  with  broken  limb,  where  he  had  fallen 
From  an  overhanging  ledge.       They  succored 
Him  until,  returned  to  strength,  he  rose  with 
One  limb  twisted  hopelessly.       They  made — as 
Best  they  could — a  wooden  substitute,  and 
Strap'd  with  buckskin  bandage,  he  soon  learned  to 
Use  it  cleverly.      Jokingly,  he  called 
Himself  "Peg-leg,  the  miner."       He  told  them 
Of  a  mine  that  out  upon  the  desert 
He  had  found,  where  three  large  buttes  stood  side  by 

51 


Side.       Cedric  gave  him  burros  from  his  herd, 

And  packs,  and  sent  him  on  his  way.      He  came 

Again  with  well-filled  sacks  of  pellets  round 

As  shot  and  black  as  ebony,  which  proved 

To  be  pure  gold.      He  left  it  there,  and  leaving, 

Nevermore  returned.       Miners  to  this  day 

In  vain  have  sought  that  "Peg-leg  Mine,"  and  those 

Three  buttes ;  and  some  have  left  their  bones  to  bleach 

Upon  the  desert  sand.      The  miner  told 

Them  of  a  nearer  passage,  a  hidden 

Trail,  that  led  downward  to  the  valley.       They 

Going,  tarried  there  and  Cedric  sent  the 

Indians  to  the  mission  for  supplies. 

Once  a  cougar  sprang  across  their  path  with 
Blazing  eyes  and  crouching  for  a  spring;  when 
Cedric  sent  a  bullet  thro'  its  brain;  and 
From  its  den  he  took  a  pair  of  baby 
Mountain  lions,  made  orphans  by  the  shot. 
Zola,  pitying,  took  them  home  and  one, 
Surviving,  grew  to  monstrous  size,  became 
Obedient  to  her  command,  and  like 
A  faithful  watch  dog,  followed  her.     She 
Called  him  Zimbo.     Other  pets  she  had — white 

52 


Kids  of  silken  fleece,  birds  and  animals, 
But  Zimbo  was  the  monarch  of  them  all. 


As  the  circling  years  went  'round  and  she  could 
See  beyond  the  golden  morning  of  her 
Sunny  life  the  ripening  noonday  coming 
On,  she  longed  to  see  the  world  beyond  her 
Mountain  home;  but  named  it  not  to  Cedric. 
With  her  years  she  grew  more  fearless,  wild  and 
Venturesome.     With  Zimbo  and  her  rifle, 
She  scaled  the  dizzy  heights  of  rock  and  crag 
Where  condors  built  their  nests,  and  knew  the 
Devious  windings  of  the  wild  doe's  trail, 
Thro'  manzanita  groves  and  chaparral. 
In  a  seat  of  granite,  nature  fashioned, 
Like  a  throne,  shaded  by  a  giant  oak 
Upon  a  summit  looking  oceanward, 
She  would  sit  in  dreamy  mood  and  watch  the 
Silvery  line  of  surf  that  fringed  the  far-off 
Fading  stretch  of  blue.     Once  she  saw  a  sail 
Appear,  then  slowly  vanish  in  the  offing ; 
And  in  the  quiet  of  an  early  morn, 
She  heard  the  low  sweet  chime  of  mission  bells. 

53 


GILBERT. 

To  that  same  port  where  Cedric  landed  with 
His  Zola,  others  came  from  distant  parts. 
Some  came  to  seek  their  fortunes,  others  came 
To  buy  and  till  the  soil,  some  to  obey 
The  inborn  instinct  of  the  pioneer. 
One  family,  leaving  all  behind,  had  bro't 
A  sickly  child.     Rich  and  prosperous  they 
Had  been,  and  with  children  blessed;  but  a  dread 
Contagion  had  swept  them  all  away  save 
One;  and  he,  left  delicate  and  frail,  the 
Idol  of  their  hopes — no  other  left  to 
Keep  the  family  name.     Frcm  those  who  best  could 
Speak,  they  learned  there  was  no  hope  unless  it  be 
In  taking  him  to  that  fair,  sunny  clime. 
They  hastened  there  and  gave  him  for  his  home 
A  quaint  old  hacienda  of  the  Dons; 
With  many  leagues  of  land  that  lay  between 
The  mountains  and  the  sea.    There  amid  the 
Orange  groves  and  vineyards,  in  the  freedom 
Of  the  range  where  roamed  his  father's  flocks  and 
Herds,  young  Gilbert  soon  became  a  gay  young 
Caballero — grew  as  strong  and  fearless 
As  vaqueros  of  the  range — could  twirl  the 

Lariat  or  aim  the  rifle  true  as  they. 

54 


Sunburned,  strong  and  handsome  was  Gilbert,  in 
Showy  costume  of  the  Dons,  with  clanking 
Spurs,  gold-mounted  trappings  on  his  coal-black 
Leo,  ambling  thro'  the  massive  arches 
Of  the  mission.     Senoritas  smiled  on 
Him ;  he  returned  their  loving  glances.    This 
His  parents  seeing,  feared  their  Ang^lo 
Blood  be  mixed  with  that  of  darker  hue,  besought 
Him  to  return  to  their  old  home  and  there 
To  find  a  bride  of  his  own  faith  and  kind. 
He  quieted  their  fears  and  said  that  he 
Was  wedded  to  the  mesa  and  the  hills. 
He  loved  the  mountains  more  than  ever 
Bridegroom  loved  his  bride,  his  heart  was  free ; 
But  kind  and  true  and  dutiful  to  them, 
He  promised  solemnly  that  he  would  do 
As  they  desired  before  he  took  a  wife; 
For  ne'er  could  he  repay  the  love  and  care 
By  them  bestowed  on  him,  their  sacrifice. 

Foremost  in  all  manly  sports,  he  reckless 
Rode  along  the  beach  where  foaming  breakers 
Lashed  the  cliffs,  fleet-footed  Leo  dashed  between. 
His  black  horse  was  known  on  El  Camino 

Real — far  beyond  the  shady  groves  of 

55 


Monte  Vista.       He  loved  the  mountains 

And  on  their  bosom  laid  his  head  beneath 

The  starlit  skies,  companion  of  their  silence, 

Partaker  of  their  rest.    In  midnight  darkness 

Could  he  thread  the  winding  Indian  trail 

Across  the  high  Cuyamacas,  and  often 

Had  he  reached  the  base  of  Palomar,  and 

Longed  to  see  beyond  its  frowning  granite 

Walls.     At  last,  undaunted,  came  nearly  to 

The  summit — came  where  a  deep-walled  canyon  held 

Him  back,  there  rested.     The  autumn  sun  was 

Slowly  sinking  to  the  sea  and  bathed  the 

Mountain  side  in  flood  of  rosy-tinted 

Brilliancy. 

ZOLA  AND   ZIMBO. 

Upon  a  shelving  rock  near 
By,  a  being  of  angelic  beauty 
Stood;  posed  statue-like,  her  eyes  fix't  on  the 
Distant  sea;  one  hand  spread  gracefully 
Across  her  brow,  the  other  holding  back 
A  monster  mountain  lion  that  crouching 
At  her  feet,  lay  watching  him;  a  robe  of 

56 


Softest  fabric,  yielding  to  the  breeze,  revealed 

The  ample  fulness  of  her  shapely  form; 

Caught  back  by  strand  of  sparkling  gems,  a  mass 

Of  golden  hair  fell  nearly  to  her  feet. 

She  unconscious  of  his  presence,  Gilbert 

Stood  in  speechless  adoration,  as  one 

Entranced, — lost  in  wonderment.    Who  was  this 

Personage  divine?     This  apparition 

Come  to  him  on  that  lone  mountain  side?    Was 

She  some  fairy  elf  come  to  bewitch  him? 

Some  mountain  sprite?    Or  angel  from  the  throne? 

With  throbbing  temples,  arms  outstretched,  as  tho' 

He  fain  would  leap  the  chasm  that  lay  between, 

Pressed  slowly  to  its  edge.      The  lion  rising 

Angrily  to  spring,  she  saw  him  standing 

There  and  vanished  from  his  sight.    Then  from  the 

Rocks,  he  heard  her  voice  call  softly,  sternly: 

"Come,  Zimbo,  come!     Come  here!"    The  spell  was 

Broken ;  by  those  words  in  his  own  tongue 

He  knew  that  she  was  of  the  earth — one  like 

Himself — and  not  a  native  of  that  land. 

Day  after  day  did  he  return  to  that 
Same  spot  and,  waiting  patient,  watch  for  her; 

57 


Once  for  a  moment  saw  her  on  the  heights, 
And  again,  he  saw  the  eyes  of  that  great 
Lion  fixed  on  him  and  knew  that  she  was 
Near.     Like  knight  of  old  he  scaled  the  highest 
Peaks  and  stood  upon  the  spot  her  feet  had 
Pressed.     With  throbbing  pulse  and  nalpitating 
Heart  he  followed  in  pursuit.     The  kindly 
Rocks  revealed  no  tell-tale  foot  prints  where  her 
Feet  had  touched  tnem  in  her  flight.      The  summer 
Wore  away  and  autumn  came  again;  yet 
She  cunningly  evaded  him.     Growing 
Desperate,  he  traversed  all  the  length  and 
Breadth  of  Palomar;  at  times  he  heard  her 
Voice  in  song,  heard  her  speak  to  Zimbo,   she 
Near  him;  for  a  precious  moment  saw  her, 
But  in  finesse  she  more  than  equalled  him. 

Gilbert's  parents  missed  his  merry  laugh  and 
Jest ;  marvelled  at  his  absence ;  feared  that 
He  was  ill  and  questioned  him.     He  told  them 
He  was  hunting  in  the  mountains,  but  he 
Mentioned  not  the  object  of  his  quest;  misled 
Them  by  tales  of  condor's  nest  and  mountain 
Lion  he  had  seen. 

58 


Likewise  was  Cedric 
Troubled  by  the  change  he  saw  in  Zola. 
She  loved  Gilbert — loved  him  wildly,  madly. 
She  had  watched  him  when  he  knew  it  not,  and 
Knew  that  he  loved  her;  but  frightened  at  the 
Thought,  was  minded  to  keep  the  secret 
Locked  in  her  own  breast  and  fly  from  him;  so 
Timidly  she  asked  if  some  day  they  might 
Go  away,  and  sailing  o'er  the  ocean 
Find  another  home.    Cedric  answered,  "Yes, 
Some  day."     He  had  long  expected  this  and 
Unknown  to  her,  had  in  a  way,  prepared 
Her  for  the  change.    From  that  lone  mountain  top 
Letters  had  been  sent  to  shops  and  houses 
Of  the  east,  and  yearly  in  return  had 
Come  by  Indian  carriers  from  the  port 
Clothing  for  himself  and  Zola,  made  to 
Measure  sent,  and  always  in  their  study 
Hours  they  dressed  resplendently,  that  she  might 
Grace  a  drawing-room  and  feel  at  ease — not 
Show  that  she  in  wilderness  was  reared. 
She  had  mastered  music  and  languages 
In  travel  needed  most,  and  was  withal 
A  finished  scholar.     Not  for  himself  but 

59 


Her,  he  feared  to  take  her  hence — knew  full  well 

That  one  so  beautiful  would  soon  be  wooed, 

And  he  had  never  told  her  of  the  cloud 

That  hung  around  her  birth — the  cloud  of 

Mystery.    As  for  himself,  he  loved  her 

All  the  better  for  it — she  blameless — he 

In  tenderness  postponed  the  hour;  but  the 

Longer  left  undone,  he  dreading  knew  that 

One  day  it  must  come;  in  honor  must  he 

Speak — must  tell  her,  though  it  break  her  heart,  to 

Know  that  he  was  not  her  father.     Often 

Did  he  wish  that  in  her  childhood  had  he 

Told  her  all.    Yet,  in  his  weakness,  promised 

Her  that  some  day  they  would  go:  "Yes;  some  day." 

Gilbert,  growing  wise  in  woodcraft  and  in 
The  art  of  making  love,  on  the  farther 
Side  went  up  the  mountain,  rode  Leo  up 
The  winding  trail;  Zola  watching,  waited 
Disappointed  while  he — galloping  o'er  the 
Table-land — came  on  Cedric  busy  in 
His  garden.     They  with  kindly  greeting  met, 
Conversing,  found  each  the  other  to  his 
Liking.     He  too  manly  to  dissemble, 

60 


Gilbert  came  out  openly:     The  one  so 

Coy  and  beautiful,  was  she  his  daughter? 

Cedric  troubled,  sternly  answered:  "She  is  mine, 

Indeed,  my  Zola."    How  learned  the  young  man  of 

Her  presence  on  the  mountain?    Had  he  met 

Her?     Had  they  met  clandestinely?     Gilbert, 

Speaking  plainly,  said:  Tho'  strangers, 

Yet  they  knew  each  other  well;  he  long  had 

Worship'd  her  afar;  well  she  knew  and  well 

Had  she  evaded  him.    Now,  at  last,  had 

He  found  the  one  to  ask  if  he  might  meet  and 

Woo  her,  would  he  give  consent?     Cedric  saw 

His  good  intent,  sincerity  and  truth, 

Looked  upon  him  with  the  feeling  of  the 

Father  for  the  son.    Then  like  a  phantom 

Came  that  secret  terror  of  his  life, — he 

Spoke  unlike  himself — severe,  unkindly. 

"She  obeys  her  father's  will  and  he  would 

Will  that  she  remain  unseen,  unknown 

To  strange  intruder.    The  young  man  makes  bold 

In  asking." 

Answered  Gilbert,  manfully: 
"May  not  a  true  heart  be  emboldened  by 

61 


The  hope  of  winning  one  so  beautiful? 

The  asking  honorable?    Perchance  the 

Senor  has  himself  in  days  gone  by  made 

Like  request?"    Spoke  of  his  family 

Old  and  honored,  lived  on  the  Gilbert  rancho 

In  the  valley.     Would  he  offer  them  rebuke 

Unwittingly?     Cedric  by  his  words  the 

More  determined  they  should  never  meet,  for 

Zola's  sake  and  his,  resolved  to  flee 

With  her,  so  spoke  deceitfully.     He  must 

Go  and  wait  six  days  and  on  the  seventh 

Come;  if  she  were  there  then  he  might  speak  with 

Her.     Gilbert  said  respectfully:  "'Tis  well! 

With  such  a  hope  I  well  may  add  to  my 

Long  waiting  one  more  week."     And  with  a  smile 

Of  hopefulness,  he  rode  away.     Cedric 

Pitying,  watched  him  disappear  among 

The  ceanothus  bloom  and  drooping  boughs. 

Zola  coming,  on  her  face  the  look  of 
Sadness, — signs   of  weeping, — Cedric   knowing 
Now  the  secret  of  the  change  in  her — the 
Absence  of  the  rippling  laughter  noticed 
In  the  months  gone  by — his  kind  heart  melted 

62 


And  well-nigh  did  he  repent  and  tell  her 
All,  tell  Gilbert;  but  the  specter  haunting 
Fixed  his  purpose;  she  must  go  or  face  a 
Deeper  sorrow.     So,  despite  his  feeling, 
Smilingly  and  cheerful,  told  her  they  would 
Go  and  sail  across  the  ocean — sail  to 
Foreign  lands.    Thus  seeking  to  beguile  and 
Turn  her  from  the  tie  that  bound  her  heart  to 
Palomar,  spake  he  of  the  people  and 
The  sights  that  they  would  see.    Long  had  they 
Remained  in  Nature's  parlor;  now  going, 
Would  they  view  the  halls  and  palaces  of 
Splendor  they  had  read  about.     She  smiling 
Sadly,  kissed  and  thanked  him  for  his  kindness. 

She  daily  strolled  where  she  had  seen  the  face 
Of   Gilbert,  vainly  waiting  with  the  hope 
That  he  would  come  once  more — pensively,  with 
Tears — and  prayed  that  she  might  see  him  once 
Again  before  she  went  away.    The  sun 
From  out  its  saffron-tinted  bed  burst  forth 
And  kissed  the  mountain  peaks.     She  weeping,  heard 
The  matin  song  of  birds  and  cooing  doves, 
The  melody  of  Nature's  minstrelsy — 

63 


Heard,  and  yet  not  heard,  for  today  must  she 
Decide  among  her  treasures,  which  to  take 
And  which  to  leave  behind.      Came  Zimbo  and 
Her  pets  for  breakfast  from  her  hand,  the  last 
But  one,  for  early  on  the  morrow  she 
Would  go.    "Shall  we  never  come  again  to 
This  dear  spot?"  she  asked.     Cedric  feigning 
Cheerfulness,     his  sadness  ill-concealed, — ran 
On  assuringly:  "Of  course,  we  will  return 
And  rest  from  our  long  journey  'round  the  world; 
Come,  bring  your  bric-a-brac,  my  girl,  and  we  . 
Will  pack  it  snugly  in  the  cabin,  bar 
The  doors  and  leave  all  safe  and  sound.    We  may 
Find  Zimbo  and  the  other  pets  all  waiting 
When  we  come.     Cheer  up,  my  darling;  dry  your 
Tears,  for  wondrous  sights  are  waiting  for  those 
Eyes  to  feast  upon."    Thus  talking,  while  he 
Packed  her  treasures  in  the  hidden  cabin. 


THE  MIDNIGHT  RIDE. 

Gilbert,  sleepless,  counted  yet  the  slowly 
Dragging  hours — three  more  days,  and  then 
The  promised  one;  pondered  o'er  the  words  of 

64 


That  strange  man  on  Palomar, — words  so  oft 

Repeated :  "If  she  be  here,  then  you  may 

Speak  with  her."    "If  she  be  here!"  Their  meaning- 

His  intention — dawned  upon  him.    "She  will 

Not  be  there!"    In  frantic  haste  he  rose  and 

Threw  his  saddle  on  his  fastest  horse  and 

Sent  the  spurs  along  his  quivering  flanks; 

His  adolescent  blood  in  angry  throbs, 

His  eyes  ablaze,  he  wildly  flew  across 

The  mesa,  through  the  foothills,  brave  Bonita 

Stag'ring,  bore  him  up  the  trail.    In  early 

Morning  came  to  where  he  spoke  with  Cedric. 

On  the  slope  he  saw  the  tethered  burros, 
Well-filled  packs  and  camping  equipage  near 
By.    Then  from  the  curtained  maze  of  trailing 
Vines  and  boughs,  he  heard  the  gurgling  waters 
Of  the  spring  and  sound  of  axe.    Pressing  thro' 
He  came  upon  the  hidden  cabin,  Cedric 
Placing  bars  before  the  door,  and  Zola 
By  his  side.    At  sight  of  him  came  bounding 
Zimbo,  stop'd  by  Zola's  voice.    Then,  with  head 
Uncovered — bowed,  as  one  in  reverential 
Attitude  before  a  shrine — addressed  her: 

65 


"We  have  been  acquainted  long,  if  not  by 
Spoken  word,  then  by  the  cords  that  bind  two 
Hearts  as  one.    This  man  who  calls  you  daughter, 
He  may  tell  you  of  his  promise — explain 
The  breaking — doubting  not  his  motive,  I 
Believe  him  kind  and  true." 

"Calls  you  daughter!" 

Smote  poor  Cedric's  soul;  a  deadly  palor 
Swept  across  his  kindly  face.    The  time  had 
Come  when  he  must  speak — must  tell  the  secret 
Of  his  life — her  life.    Then  he  recited 
All  that  he  remembered, — Zola's  unknown 
Parentage;  his  stealing  her,  and  fear  that 
She  be  taken ;  how  he  had  suffered  with 
The  dread  of  making  known  to  her  that  he 
Was  not  her  father.     Speaking,  the  strong  man 
Breaking,  wept.     Her  love  and  true  devotion 
Setting  all  aside,  she  sprang  to  him  and 
Clinging,  cried:  "He  is  my  ofwn  dear  father!" 
Her  dazzling  beauty  now  intensified. 

As  one  enchanted,  Gilbert  looked  upon 
The  scene;  such  filial  love  revealed  a  depth 

66 


Of  soul  beyond  his  ken ;  thought  he  of  those 

Who  called  him  son — what  they  had  done  for  him — 

And  of  the  promise  he  had  made  to  them. 

Yes,  he  would  die  for  them ;  yet  in  their  pride 

Of  name  and  family  might  they  not  spurn 

This  nameless  one?    Thus  in  the  balance  weighed 

His  love  for  her  was  satisfied ;  fortune, 

Name  and  family  were  all  as  naught  to 

Him  compared  with  Zola.     He  proudly  asked 

Again  to  woo  the  hermit's  daughter  and 

Winning,  give  to  her  his  name. 

"No,  no,"  she 

Answered  for  the  father,  "until  this  cloud 
Is  lifted — mystery  solved — my  name  is 
Zola  Vaughn."    With  her  words,  a  light  broke  in 
On  Gilbert.    Joyously  he  spoke;  as  he 
Had  promised  would  he  go  back  to  the  states 
And  seek  a  bride,  solve  the  mystery  and 
Return  triumphant,  claim  her — his  Zola — 
As  his  bride.     Would  take  the  ship  now  in 
The  harbor,  sail  tomorrow.     Cedric  gave 
The  name  of  Colonel  Vail,  but  his  memory 
Yielded  meagerly  of  information 

67 


Needed.    He  well  remembered  all  his  life 

Up  to   the  day  that  he  left  Lola  at 

Her  father's  home,  and  from  the  day  she  died, 

The  gap  between  in  mystery  wrapt,  all  blank. 

Gilbert,  taking  Cedric's  hand,  said:  "From  this 

Day  your  life  shall  be  a  pattern  for  my 

Own.      God  bless  you."      And  to  Zola:    "You  are 

Mine  whate'er  my  journey  may  reveal;"    and 

Unmindful  of  her  sweet  rebuke,  he  held 

Her  to  his  breast  and  kissed  her.    That  life-long 

Fear  for  her  still  haunting,  Cedric  followed 

Him  aside  and  whispered:  "The  father,  if 

He  be  found,  pray  name  her  not  to  him."    From 

The  mountain  top  she  watched  him  out  of  sight; 

Then,  alone  on  Palomar,  the  hermit's 

Daughter  wept. 

When  their  only  son  went  forth 
To  seek  a  bride — to  keep  his  vow — there  was 
Great  rejoicing  at  the  Gilbert  rancho. 


68 


GILBERT'S  JOURNEY. 

After  journey  long  and  wearisome,  he 
Reached  the  Crescent  City  and  the  home  of 
Colonel  Vail.      The  aged  man  now  mellowed 
By  weight  of  years,  remorseful,  mourning 
And  alone,  received  him  kindly,  answered : 
"Her  father's  name  was  Simon  Blake,  he  was 
Murdered  by  a  Mexican  upon  the 
Dock.     The  child,  my  grandchild's  name  was  Blake. 
The  man  who  loved  my  daughter  came  and  found  her 
Dying.    'Twas  he  who  took  the  child  away, 
And  they  were  lost  at  sea."    Gilbert  had  the 
Story  of  her  life — her  name  was  Zola 
Blake. 

With  heavy  heart  he  homeward  turned,  yet 
No  less  loyal  to  his  Zola.     With  sad 
Misgivings  waited  for  the  coming  of 
The  ship — long  overdue — by  stormy  sea 
Kept  back.     Waiting,   pondered  gloomily;   he 
Must  go  and  bear  the  tidings  that  would  solve 
The  mystery  of  her  name,  but  leave  a 
Darker  shadow  than  before.     Still  would  she 
Refuse  his  name  they  would  go  away  from 

69 


Palomar.    They  at  the  rancho,  left  so 
Happily,  what  would  he  say  to  them?     At 
Last  with  tattered  sail  and  broken,  came 
The  ship.     He  hastening,  learned  that  it  would 
Lay  at  anchor  there  yet  two  days  more  in 
Mending.     Hopeless,  yet  with  strange  desire  to 
Linger  there,  again  he  visited  the 
Hospital  where  Zola's  mother  died;  but 
As  before,  no  voice  could  answer  aught  of 
Her;  yet  caught  a  thread  of  hope — an  aged 
Priest  in  near-by  parish  might  remember. 

The  father  heard  him, — listened  eagerly; 
Then  in  his  book  of  records  found  the  date 
When  Lola  Vail  and  Cedric  Vaughn  were  wed; 
And  the  christening  of  her  daughter — their  child. 
Left  with  him  for  Cedric,  left  by  Lola, 
The  treasure  he  had  brought  from  Mexico, 
Lola's  diary,  presents  he  had  given, 
And  a  miniature  of  Cedric  done  by 
Her  own  hand;  then  to  the  house  where  they  were 
Married  and  her  resting  place.     Gilbert  took 
The  proof  to  Colonel  Vail  and  together 
They  rejoiced.     He  begged  that  he  would  bring  his 

70 


Grandchild  there  when  they  were  wed,  and  Cedric 
Vaughn,  that  he  might  grasp  the  hand  of  that  true 
Man.     Now,  to  Gilbert's  happy  heart  attuned 
By  hope's  fruition,  Nature  brought  a  new 
Glad  song.     The  bird  notes  rang  with  sweeter 
Melody — sunshine   brighter — bluer   skies- 
Even  in  the  tumbling  troughs  of  ocean's 
Depth,  he  read  the  mirrored  light  of  love  and 
Joy.     Thro'  long  and  dreary  days  beneath  a 
Tropic  sun, — in  calm,  or  fog,  or  buffeted 
By  winds  adverse,  the  good  ship  sped  'til  thro' 
The  mild  Pacific's  purple  haze,  Point 
Loma  came  in  view  and  then,  across  the 
Mesa,  to  the  hacienda,  home  again. 


With  mysterious  air,  and  teasing  told, 
Or  partly  told  the  story.    Yes;  he  had 
Found  a  fairy  queen  and  when  again  the 
Great  round  moon  came  o'er  the  mountain  top,  she, 
Riding  on  its  silvery  beams,  would  come  in 
State, — would  come  with  him — come  to  the  rancho. 
They  must  "'bide-a-wee"  and  trusting  him,  wait 
Patiently.     So  he  left  them  wondering. 

71 


CONCLUSION. 

To  Palomar  he  flew — told  all  that  he 
Had  learned — laid  the  proof  before  them — described 
The  house  where  Cedric  lived — told  of  the  battle  on 
The  dock — how  Morales  died — the  bags  of 
Gold  from  Mexico.    Thus  aided,  Cedric 
Woke  as  from  a  dream,  remembered  all;  then 
Placing  Zola's  hand  in  his,  withdrew  to 
Be  alone  with  sacred  memories. 

Hand 

In  hand  the  lovers  blissful  roved  among 
The  crags  and  overhanging  boughs  where  she 
Had  watched  unseen,  for  him.    Led  him  thro'  the 
Brake,  in  forest  solitudes,  where  lemon 
Lilies  nestling  grow,  and  clinging  vines 
And  nodding  ceanothus  plumes  bedrape 
The  foliage  in  Nature's  millinery. 

With  love  and  kisses  roamed  until  the  day 
When  proudly  and  triumphant,  Gilbert  led 
Them  thro'  the  avenues  of  spreading  palms  and 
Vine-clad  arches  of  the  hacienda. 
His  mother  welcomed  her  with  tears  of  joy, 

72 


"Her  daughter" — then  met  the  fathers — met  in 
Glad  surprise — for  Cedric  Vaughn  and  Homer 
Lee  stood  face  to  face;  again  renewed  the 
Old  time  bonds  of  love  and  friendship  made  the 
Stronger. 

Then  came  another  presence  on 
The  scene.      Radiant  in  the  ripened  bloom 
Of  womanhood — as  beautiful  as  in 
The  happy  days  of  old — came  Dora  Lee 
To  welcome  Cedric  Vaughn  and  Lola's  child. 

On  the  Gilbert  rancho  (named  for  him),  in  the 
Dreamy  quiet  of  a  summer  eve,  while 
Softly  chimed  the  distant  mission  bells, 
At  the  hacienda,  sweet  Zola  Vaughn 
And  Gilbert  Lee  were  wed.    And  when  the 
Autumn  came,  and  vine,  and  bough  and  field  gave 
Forth  their  richest  fruitage,  and  falling  leaves 
Betokened  ripeness — the  sure  reward 
Of  patient  waiting — two  faithful  souls  were 
Joined  as  one.    Again  rang  forth  the  silvery 
Chime  of  wedding  bells — old  mission  bells — that 
Echoed  from  the  gilded  cross  above  its 

73 


Hoary  walls,  a  benediction  sweet  as 
Incense  from  its  altars. 

Long,  long  ago 

Back  to  the  happy  scenes  of  youth  they  sailed, 
And  left  the  hidden  cabin  to  decay. 


Up  the  Grade 

BY 

DAVID  W.  EDWARDS 

Author  of 

"The  Hidden  Cabin" 
"Billy  Birdsall" etc. 

A  strong  romance,  natural  and 
absorbing. 

It  has  a  special  message  to  young 
men. 

Both  young  and   old    will    find 
pleasure  and  profit  in  its  pages. 

The  hero  is  a  fine  type  of  man 
hood. 

A  healthful  and  helpful  story  with 
inspiration  to  human  betterment. 

Illustrated,  $1.50 
At  all  Book  Stores 

C.4UL  Clark  <pufcltstfnng  Compart? 

BOSTON,  MASS. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA   LIBRARY 
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27  1929 


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